In The Rain
by muertalas
Summary: He could always jump to escape the painful heart attack that he was destined to succumb to. He would have wings momentarily, like a bird or an angel. One-shot. Spoilers for Episode Twenty-Five.


**In The Rain**

He could always jump. That would make the agony of the heart attack he was fated to succumb to nonexistent. And if he jumped, he could fly momentarily; he would be an angel or a bird without the bones and muscles jutting out of his back for mere moments before he hit the hard, unforgiving Earth below. But that was stupid; that would only make him a coward, and that was the last adjective he wished to associate himself with.

And so, he continued to stare up at the desolate sky. Clouds swirled above him, chilly droplets descending from the heavens to the mortal world. Roofs had always been one of his favorite places to be; he savored any opportunity to climb up and allow his mind to wander as he was usually cooped up like a form of livestock, solving cases and hiding behind computer screens and synthetic voices. The tower next to him offered no shelter, and honestly he did not care. The water made him know that this particular situation was not a dream nor a nightmare, but stone cold reality.

He blinked as church bells sounded, the sound waves rushing their way through the rain in order to force melodies into his ears. They were psyche-shattering that day; maybe for a wedding or a funeral? He vaguely wondered who had been united in holy matrimony or what poor soul had died.

But he shouldn't have truly wasted valuable mental capacity on matters that did not concern him. He was merely a computer. His mind was the main hard drive while his body was only encasing the valuable knowledge that had been forced into him by the keyboard. He had no true emotions. He had no wants or needs. He wished for nothing that a _normal_ human being yearned for.

What an illusion; what a trick!

The rain pounded harder on the pale flesh that had been pulled over his skeletal structure; the white, quarter-sleeve shirt he wore every day had been soaked through and the thin fabric clung to his slender frame like a second skin. The denim of his jeans were constricting his legs and becoming uncomfortable, but he simply gave a mental shrug and persisted in ignoring both that and the agony his bare feet were enduring from staying on freezing concrete for a long period of time.

_Time is slowing down though, is it not?_ he thought curiously, blinking once more as he followed more and more liquid globules to the ground; to their deaths. _If time is indeed coming to a standstill then… I would not be dying today. It is… inevitable…_

His father – or he should have really thought of him as his guardian since blood did not connect them – knew of the events that awaited him. And oh, how much he wanted to call him "Dad" just once and earn a smile from the elderly man that had dealt with his odd quirks and brilliant intellect for all of the years that he had been at the orphanage and for the days that had come after that. But that was futile; _Watari_ was the great _L's_ right hand man and _L_ was the detective. That was it; there was no changing it for it was how God had intended it.

_Do I believe in God?_ he inquired silently, slipping a sopping wet hand into his equally soaked jeans pocket. _I do not even know anymore…_

He clenched the fist that was not lodged inside his pocket angrily, biting down on his lip in order to keep his impassive composure. After all, he was still _just_ a machine, was he not? And computers did not have wings or true emotions, nor did they have any religious beliefs. They were just _there_ to fulfill their human masters' requests. And that was what he was; that was what he had always been.

The schematics of his brain worked effortlessly as he remembered: The orphanage, his aspiration to become righteous and the epitome of justice, meeting Quillish Wammy – or Watari, since he had not called the senior by his true name in years – and rising to the top of the food chain as the three greatest detectives in centuries. Everything was flooding back to him in a giant wave, and with that ripple came a large outbreak of emotions crawling up from his stomach and threatening to compress his throat. Tears welled in his wide, obsidian eyes, endangering themselves as they began to mix with the pure fluid that fell from the sky.

_No. No, I will keep my self-control. I am not allowed to cry._

"What are you doing in a place like this, Ryuzaki?" A voice was calling out to him, attempting to claw its way around the downpour in order to reach him. He turned his head to see a lean male, auburn hair and piercing mahogany orbs that were able to be made out even in the torrent. He stood straight and wore what could have been called a sneer on his face, despite the obvious youth and mocking innocence that emanated from the boy.

He stared blankly at the teenager before leaning towards him and placing a spidery hand over his ear. The gesture of "What was that?" was clear.

The adolescent attempted to speak louder, palm amplifying his speech as he hid under a tiny covering by the door he pushed shut with his foot. "What are you doing in a place like this, Ryuzaki?!"

He decided to toy with him a smidge out of the growing anguish that was slowly ravaging his body, inside and out. He leaned his body a bit closer, a small smile playing on his lips and spindly fingers curling slightly.

The young male blinked once confusedly before stepping out into the rain, arm raised as if it would provide some sort of fortification against the splatter of frosty drips. Walking over, the teenager squinted his eyes at the man in front of him, whose black hair was matted and gaze set upon the concrete and metal-made city below, orbs unemotional and illusive; locked up.

"What are you doing, Ryuzaki?" the student inquired tiredly, through with the older one's childish derision.

But _he _was no fool; _he_ could see passed the cocoon that the younger boy was hiding within, biding his time before he could come out and openly exclaim that he was the mass murderer that went by the name of Kira and had a God complex larger than that of Adolf Hitler. He slouched even more and heaved a silent groan that begged to escape the confines of his mouth, inwardly crying out for someone; anyone who would save him from his fate.

"Nothing in particular, it's just the bells…" he responded after a moment, his tone monotone.

"Bells?" His main suspect's manner was that of suave curiosity, but he was not moved into showing clear feelings for _him_, not him.

"Yes, the bells are really loud today." He turned his head to watch the male momentarily before turning to look back up at the heavens once more. He had never felt so deplorable before in the entirety of his lifetime, yet he still showed no one.

_No one but my 'Father' at least…_

The auburn-haired youth looked around somewhat and then twisted his body again to confront the older man, saying, "I don't hear anything."

"Really? The conditions are favorable today, so you can't help but hear them." No sentiment still. Was he honestly such an android that his voice was completely dull every moment of every single day? "It's a church," he continued, pausing to blink and wish away the throbbing pain that was squeezing his airway. "Maybe a wedding? Or–"

"What are you talking about, Ryuzaki?" The teen pulled his hand away from atop his visage as he tried to make his point known. "Don't say such useless things."

The detective; the insomniac; the older man; the robot gawked emotionlessly at him, mouth opened a crevice and the bottomless pits of his eyes were wider than ever.

_Am I no longer a human with living organs, or have they been replaced with state-of-the-art technology? Can I not share my thoughts and findings with you, Light Yagami, or has that luxury been stolen away from me too? Damn it, damn it, damn it all... I am no longer a person, am I? _

The rain still fell, landing on the obstacles – no matter if they were inanimate or living, breathing creatures – that just so happened to be in their paths. The wind began to pick up, chilling his very bone marrow and twirling locks of the men's hair.

"Let's go back."

He looked down, a frown setting itself comfortably on his visage. He was stupid to assume that just because _Light Yagami_ was on the same intelligence level as him that he would understand his thoughts. No one really did and he had deceived himself into believing that someone else actually _would_ comprehend his philosophies.

He was just wrong yet again.

"I'm sorry," came the short reply, "I'm distant in my relationships with everyone. I don't trust anyone either." He shrugged this off as though it were entirely normal. He slumped even more and bent his head down. Tiny drops of rainwater descended from his hair but he paid them no mind.

The teenager looked almost sympathetic towards the sleuth. Closing his eyes, he smirked arrogantly. "That's true, Ryuzaki. You try not to get involved in relationships. If it's something that shouldn't be you shouldn't get involved in the first place. I know that the best." He waved a hand airily, opening his mahogany eyes and still keeping that sneer on his face perfectly.

_Perfect. You are too perfect, Light Yagami, _too_ perfect to be normal and innocent like you say you are._

"Yes, that's how it is, Light-kun." He broke off briefly before persisting. "But, you're the same as me."

"What do you mean?" questioned Light.

The older man nearly gave a miniscule grin at the query, but he restrained himself, calming himself quickly and answering. "Since you were born, have you ever told the truth, even once?"

The silence between the two was almost murderous. Two rivals; enemies; opponents at war glaring at each other as the skies wept, one keeping his polite guard up while the other openly stared, percentages and formulas running through the abyss that was his brain. The tension was so thick that one could cut it with a butcher knife.

Light was the first to speak. "What are you saying, Ryuzaki? It's true, I tell lies occasionally. However, there aren't any humans who have never told a lie." His tone was flawless; his tone was level-headed and his sentences were well-thought out.

_Up seven point five percent,_ the detective thought grimly.

"People can't be perfect; everyone lies," continued Light, "Even so, I won't tell lies that will hurt those I love. That's my answer."

_Goddamnit…_

He practically sent a glower in the pupil's direction, wishing that _he_ was _Light_ for once. He was aware of the odd looks that he was sent on the rare, if not non-existent occasions that he ventured outdoors; he noticed that Light was admired and respected and _wonderful_. He was esteemed as "The Great L" but that was all. His life had been case after case, and even if that was what he had desired, his heart was still empty.

"I guess that's why you're popular," he said begrudgingly, his voice barely audible over the still-falling downpour.

A quiet fell upon the pair briefly before Light spoke up again. "Let's go back." And when _L_ did not respond, he gave a reason. "We're soaking wet."

He nearly protested, longing to throw a fit and scream. He wanted to brood on his thoughts in solitary, like he had been doing previously before Light Yagami had tread on his territory. He yearned for an embrace, or at least a human gesture to make him aware of his beating heart and his mortal soul.

_If God exists then… can He not grant me that prayer? Or does He not listen to machinery?_

"Yeah," agreed L in his monotone, following the retreating back of the teenager as the angels in Heaven cried. His hideout was tainted by evil; by the Devil and that was why they sobbed. The world's best detective, L was stained as well.

Three lost tears mixed with the rain.


End file.
